


Brothers

by aceofhearts88



Series: Howling at the Stars [23]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Appearances by others, Little bit angsty, but also hopeful, especially the boys have a little cameo in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 19:43:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13747935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofhearts88/pseuds/aceofhearts88
Summary: Arthur and Andric in the direct aftermath of Robert's Rebellion and the events at the Tower of Joy





	Brothers

He was numb with pain as Starfall built itself up in front of him, the castle high upon the rocky island, the village on the cliffs, the street leading down to the harbor, the bridge raised still.

Weeks ago he would have given everything to see his home again, to feel the wind and smell the sea, to see his family again.

Before Rhaegar had died.

Before Lewyn and Jonothor had died.

Before Elia had died.

Before Rhaenys and Aegon had died.

Before Gerold and Oswell had died even when they hadn't needed to fight.

Before Lyanna had died.

Before, before, before.

There was only before in Arthur's mind, no after.

\--

As they came upon the quiet village in mourning, he lowered his eyes, didn't want to see their faces, whether they be angry or disappointed that he had returned when their loved Princess had died a horrible death in the one place that had supposed to have been safe for her. 

That he had returned when the one he had been sworn to protect had died.

Far away from him.

Time was playing tricks in his mind because suddenly they were riding over the drawbridge and the walls of his home swallowed them up. There might have been shouts, there might have been whispers of his name but Arthur didn't hear any of it, it could have been the wind, it could have been household guards.

What did it matter.

He felt nothing.

And then he glanced up and saw his brother, and everything flared up in his chest anew when he saw Andric's shocked relieved eyes upon catching sight of him.

Somehow he made it down his horse, somehow he managed a few steps towards his brother before the pain overwhelmed him and brought him to his knees like a newborn foal. He hit the ground hard, or he must have, not that he felt any of it under the pain in his heart.

“I'm sorry,” were the first words he managed to whisper as Andric and Carral alike crouched down before him, their hands reaching out for his shoulders when he swayed, “I'm so sorry.” Andric shushed him and raised a hand to Arthur's forehead.  
“Carral, tell Daren to fetch Maester Darvin, and then bring Arthur to his old chamber with Luca.” Andric spoke and Arthur tried to protest, he didn't deserve, he didn't...but Andric shushed him softly, “It's okay, it's gonna be okay, you hear me. You're home now, Arthur.”

Home.

What was home worth when he had let so many people down.

Andric left, maybe to greet Stark, and Arthur remained with his cousin who must have waved another guard over because suddenly there were more than just two hands pulling Arthur to his feet.

“Come, cousin, you're burning worse than the desert sun. We need to bring you inside.”

\--

Everything after that for the next two days turned into fever dreams.

\--

Andric didn't know how many soothing noises could still fall past his lips before something in him cracked hard enough to have him step a foot into the afterlife and punch his fist into Rhaegar Targaryen's face.

He leaned forward in his chair, propped his elbows up on his knees just so he could bury his face in his hands, in the bed in front of him Arthur kept on mumbling in his sleep. Fever made him sweat, his skin having passed white and gone straight to greyish sick, clammy with sweat and so sensitive to touch that Andric couldn't even stroke through his hair without having him bolt awake.

What had this war done to his little brother?

What had these last two years done to his little brother?

“Hey.”

Slowly he looked up, it was the middle of the night and the castle was quiet, he hadn't exactly expected anyone to turn up in the family wing. It wasn't either of his sisters, both of whom Andric had told to not turn up until Arthur was better again, fully well knowing that it would hurt his brother only more if his sisters saw him so tortured.

Sick, he was terribly sick, running a fever worse than any Andric had seen in the last years, he was weakened and broken not only in spirit. This wasn't even a shadow of his brother anymore, this was only a ghost.

It was his cousin who carefully stepped into the room and closed the door behind himself again, Carral pulled up a chair and sat down on Arthur's other side.

“I got men watching the tower,” Carral began quietly and Andric briefly closed his eyes, his cousin and the captain of Starfall's guard had ridden out the second Arthur had been placed in his chamber, “I personally walked through every room again to make sure nothing was left behind.” Nothing that could tell a tale of what had happened.

“We gotta burn it. Raze it to the ground.” Andric said nevertheless, now where this secret was so closely tied to his family he couldn't risk anyone detecting even the smallest sign. The truth couldn't be known, never, too many lives were at risk now, including that of a newborn babe. Andric would not let another child pay the price for Rhaegar's mistake.

“Let me worry about that. You focus on Arthur and figuring out what to do with the little boy. I'll take care of the tower.” Carral told him and Andric nodded in acceptance, he would deal with the young Lord Stark on the morrow again, find a solution for all of this, a solution that assured Arthur's life and that of the little babe's.

No other possibility was going to happen.

They fell into a silence and looked down at Arthur, watched the fever shakes. Darvin had been concerned and ordered Arthur watched, not even the milk of the poppy had calmed Arthur enough to sleep peacefully. He twitched and mumbled and shook himself half awake more often than the draughts poured down his throat should have made possible. Andric had half a mind to ask his Maester for dreamvine but he already knew Darvin would advise against it.

Too risky. The fever was too high. Andric just wanted his little brother to stop suffering.

“He's gonna be okay.” Carral pulled him from his thoughts and he looked over to where blue eyes were watching him instead of Arthur. “He's come home, Andric, and he's gonna be okay. You're gonna make sure of it.” Andric blew out a breath, he had always lived with the sheer blind belief of his family that he could hold up the pillars, be the rock in the storming sea and the anchor of the ship to keep everything in place.

Arthur was the protector but Andric was the castle that gave shelter.

\--

They staid with Arthur through almost the entire night, soothed him when he lurched awake from fever dreams, held him down when whatever demons and shadows he was fighting against made him trash around.

They bit their lips when Arthur cried out for people who would never return to him but when he finally fell into a deep real sleep in the early hours of the morning, Andric felt like he had never been as close to his brother as he had in those hours.

\--

Andric didn't knock when he returned to his brother's room after what he supposed was only the second of some days of talking, they would need to get their stories absolutely straight to not run a risk of being detected.

If Arthur slept, he would just briefly look and then go back to his letters.

If not, he would do everything he could to have his little brother feel better.

Arthur was lying on his side when he entered and closed the door near noiselessly, back turned towards the door, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Andric had always known about Rhaegar and his brother, not that Arthur had actually brought the topic up until after their mother had died and he had briefly come home for the funeral, but Andric had known, because that was what big brothers were there for. To look after their siblings, to always know more than they suspected, to support and encourage, and to be there when things went bad.

He had seen it in his brother's eyes when Arthur had returned from King's Landing to be knighted under the stars of their home, the youngest in six generations of Dayne Knights, at that time there had not been a single soul anymore in the household who had not already seen Dawn in his hands. They had talked for once, a lot actually, Arthur had only too gladly talked about life at court, and basically every second sentence had been about Prince Rhaegar.

Two years later when Rhaegar had accompanied Arthur to Starfall when the younger was sworn in as the new Sword of the Morning, there had absolutely no doubt been left for Andric. Arthur loved the Prince, and if the sheer absurd fear in Rhaegar's eyes upon being confronted with Andric was any indication, then the Prince loved him, too.

He had worried then after news of Rhaegar's death had reached Starfall, worried over how his brother would take it and Andric had been forced to remain inside his castle walls. For riding out to comfort his brother would have meant risking their discovery.

Now it was clear to see that losing Rhaegar had broken his little brother.

That the additional loss of the Stark girl had been a blow dealt to him that had just been too much.

So many people had died and though it had all angered Andric, though it all – Elia's murder and the butchering of her children most of all – had let Andric think for just a moment to let Oberyn go and poison them all, nothing colored the world in burning fires as much as seeing his little brother this destroyed.

Andric sat down on the bed behind his brother, a hand reaching out to stroke through silverblond hair, Arthur tensed for just a moment before he sobbed out another breath.

“We'll get through this.” Andric began quietly, “I can't tell you how right now, or how long it'll take but I can promise you, little brother, that we will get through this.” He kept on stroking through Arthur's grown hair, longer than Andric remembered it from the last time he had seen his brother before his return to Starfall.

That had been Harrenhall.

“I don't know how to go on.” Arthur confessed in a croaked whisper and then slowly rolled around, pressing his face against Andric's hip, Andric took a deep breath and settled a heavy warm hand onto the back of Arthur's neck.  
“You're not alone, you don't have to figure that out alone.” He reminded his brother softly, “We're a family, we'll figure this out together.” Arthur gave a shaky breath and then shook his head, crying again.

\--

“Can I see the boys?” Arthur croaked out and wiped a shaking hand over his face, Andric squeezed his knee, smiling gently.  
“How about I bring them both to you? Your nephew and the prince.” He offered up, not wanting his brother to strain any of the faked energy and strength he showed now, Arthur nodded gratefully and leaned back into the pillows.

Andric hurried to get the boys, eager to see even the smallest of smiles on Arthur's face, and if the children could not achieve it, no one would be able to. Jon was asleep when Wylla wrapped him into a blanket and carried him down from the nursery herself while Andric carried his bouncing nephew who looked around with curious eyes.

Wylla didn't say anything over Arthur's state, just settled Jon into his arms and then excused herself again, Andric sat down on the chair with Torrhen who was not so subtly checking out this new face in front of him. Arthur rocked the sleeping babe in his arms, two days old and as quiet as a mouse, for a moment before he turned to hold out a hand for his nephew, Andric set Torrhen onto the bed and let him crawl forward to take his uncle's hand.

“Hey, there. You're so big already, Torrhen.” Arthur whispered and got a beaming grin in return, Torrhen liked hearing his name, “Gods, he looks nothing like Ash if it weren't for the eyes.” He didn't, their nephew, Andric knew that since the moment Ashara had burst into tears upon holding her little boy mere hours after his birth, this one was a Stark with purple eyes. And to all of their fortune, the young prince's blood had given him the Stark blood as well.

It would make it so much easier hide him, keep him safe.

“Don't let it fool you though.” Andric smiled as Torrhen snuggled up against his brother and looked down at the babe, “He's gonna have you wrapped around his fingers in no time, he is just as manipulative as our sister.” And he was strong, he was strong and he had wanted life when – as terrible as it sounded – death would have been safer for him. A Dornish-Northern bastard with the blood of the First Men, already too handsome and charming, and his life destined to be a pawn in the hands of a King to keep Ned Stark loyal.

Torrhen was a bastard, but he was the bastard of the firstborn son of Rickard Stark. If the new Lord of Winterfell ever turned his back too sharply on the new King, a quick change from Sand to Stark and Andric would see his family be dragged into a political nightmare.

Something he wouldn't let happen.

And then of course the little prince.

The dynastical smart move maybe was to inform Doran and then write to former Queen Rhaella, tell her of her grandson, tell her of her son's second marriage and plan in silence to set a child king onto the throne that was his.

The right move now was to keep him hidden from everyone else, to let him become someone else and if Andric could see anything in the way Arthur was holding his best friends'son, then he already knew what the boy could become, where he would be safe.

\--

“Saying goodbye to you will forever be something I hate.” Andric sighed when he hugged his little brother close on the docks. The ship that would take his siblings and two little boys to Pentos was already preparing to set sail, Ashara was already below deck with the wetnurse and the boys, Ned Stark had stepped back and given the Dayne brothers a moment of privacy. “Even if it's for your own safety.”

“We'll see each other again.” Arthur said when they pulled apart, still holding each other's forearms, “This isn't going to be a final goodbye.” The positive words had Andric smile, even when it broke his heart to have to let his brother go so shortly after actually getting him back, especially while Arthur still looked so lost and broken. And tired, so tired.

“Promise me that.” Andric found himself blurting out, his hands tightening on Arthur's arms for a moment, “Promise me you will keep on fighting, that you'll not give up.”  
“Andric...” Arthur began with a shocked whisper but Andric shook his head when he wanted to say more and instead caught his brother's eyes with a sharp look.  
“I've lost father and mother when I was nowhere near ready, I got through that because I had, because someone had to keep standing and be the Head of this family. But if I lose you, brother, or any of our sisters, then I can't keep standing anymore.”

Arthur stared at him for a second and then pulled him into a hug once more.

“I promise.” Arthur told him, serious and sincere, “You won't lose me like you lost Ma and Pa. I'll come back, I promise.”

\--

Nine years later, Andric scoffed when his brother reached down a hand and pulled him up onto his feet again, the blunted training sword being lazily twisted around in Arthur's free hand, that annoying little habit that no one had any idea where he had picked it up and that everyone had tried to get out of him.

“You're growing old.” Arthur taunted him and Andric bit down on his lower lip to keep the appropriate response from tumbling out of his mouth because several pairs of eager ears were listening in on every word. Torrhen, Jon and Edric were all lined up on a bench not six feet from then in the trainings yard of Starfall, watching the castle's Lord and the Sword of the Morning having a friendly afternoon spar.

Standing behind them, Carral was grinning, holding his own sparring sword where he had been fighting Arthur before an offhand comment from Richard had prompted Andric to pick up a sparring sword against his own brother. To engage into a playful fight that he hadn't been able to win already when Arthur had been eight and Andric himself had been four and ten.

Not far from them, Richard and Benjen were instructing their squires, Holden Whent and Perros Blackmont but they had stopped to watch as well.

“Maybe I just don't want to hurt your fragile ego.” Andric taunted and got back into position, Arthur snorted and then grinned, and that was a sight that Andric had so long hoped to see again. If it meant hitting the sand on his ass three times in five minutes then he was not gonna complain over it. They got at it again and the loud cheers from his son spurned Andric on, his smile widening when Jon and Carral joined Edric's enthusiastic yells while Torrhen kept himself firmly on Arthur's side.

This was a time that Andric never wanted to stop, they had all finally healed.


End file.
